Текст книги "Love Unscripted"

Автор книги: Tina Reber

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Текущая страница: 36 (всего у книги 40 страниц)

bruised… even my scalp. Those too, were healing.

And then there was the acute agoraphobia to deal with. Angelica was still on the loose, paparazzi still

lurked around the corners, and I looked like shit from getting hit by a car. It certainly made hiding inside my

apartment the most appealing of all options.

Through all of this, there was still one story that hurt more than any of them – and it was the biggest lie of

them all. Articles were written and circulated all around the globe that said I tried to trap Ryan Christensen by

getting pregnant.

My supposed failed attempt at trapping him was reported as the reason why he went running back to

Lauren’s arms. It was so far from the actual truth, yet people were even talking about it on television. I was a

gold-digging, small town piece of trash who tried to use a superstar to get somewhere in life.

And here I thought I had it bad when Thomas dumped me. That was a bee sting in comparison to having

the moon fall out of the sky and land conveniently on my head.

Marie and Cory were running the bar full time while I recuperated; I spent the majority of each day on the

couch in a haze.

“Taryn?” Marie called out as she came through my door. She and Tammy both had their own keys to my

apartment now. “Kyle is downstairs. He says he has something he wants to give you.” Her expression was

worried.

I thought I had seen the last of Kyle when I told him goodbye, but he still continued to drift in and out of my

life. I was very apprehensive about seeing him again; part of me feared him.

Tammy led the way down the steps to make sure I wouldn’t fall.

Kyle was sitting at a booth by himself; a brown bag was on the seat next to his hip. My two best friends

stood behind the bar, watching his every move.

“Hi,” he said curtly. “Look, I know you probably don’t want to see me, but I got some things for you – it

would make me feel a lot better if I knew you were safe.”

I nervously sat down and rested my cast on the tabletop.

“I got you some stuff.” He opened the bag. “Things you can keep in your purse or wherever, just in case.”

The first thing Kyle took out of the bag was an ordinary can of wasp spray.

“This is better than mace and it sprays farther too. Spray this in an attacker’s face and they’re instantly

incapacitated. I only got you one can but you should probably buy a few more.”

I watched as he dug into the bag again. Kyle barely made eye contact with me.

“This is a strobe light alarm with mace; it disorients and blinds an attacker,” he muttered. “This is called a

‘Screecher’ – it’s really loud. You can put it on your keychain or keep it in your car.”

I was looking at one of the packages, wondering why I would ever need to use any of these things. I never

needed them before; Ryan’s fans had been keeping their distance.

“Just remember that you can’t take any of this stuff on an airplane if you are going to fly anywhere. I was

going to get you a taser too, but they are illegal in Rhode Island. Do you know any self-defense?” he rambled.

“Not really,” I admitted.

Kyle didn’t smile. “You should probably think about taking some classes when you’re healed. I could show

you some moves, but…”

Kyle put all the items back in the bag and sighed heavily.

“Have you seen Angelica in the area?” he asked, quietly changing the subject.

“No.” I shook my head. “I haven’t been out of the house much. The two times I went out was to go to the

doctor. Jamaal escorted me.”

Kyle nodded. “Good. Mr. Jones is an excellent bodyguard and a good man.”

Kyle looked nervous and depressed when he talked to me. “I’ve been trying to track Angelica down but

she hasn’t surfaced anywhere yet. I have a few people watching to see if she pops up on the map again. Just

don’t worry. I’ll find her soon enough.”

Kyle grabbed his keys from his pocket and started to slide out of the booth. “Okay, well… that’s all. Take

care of yourself.”

He started to walk off but I stopped him.

“Kyle?” I called out, secretly wishing he’d stay just a bit longer.

He stopped abruptly in his tracks, but barely glanced back at me over his shoulder.

“Would you like to stay for a drink?” I asked apprehensively.

His eyes were so sad and it pained me to know that I was the cause of his melancholy. As if I needed one

more reason to be sad myself.

I grabbed the bottle of tequila.

“All you have to do is stamp on their foot real hard,” Kyle chuckled, telling me about some self-defense

maneuvers.

“So, in other words, hitting them over the head with this bottle wouldn’t work?” I giggled. I was feeling

quite tipsy from the beer, shots, and pain medicine.

“You could always use your big, blue club here,” he teased, tapping his fingers on my arm cast. “Swing it

hard enough and you could probably knock some teeth out with that thing!”

I smirked at his joke.

“I’m not afraid. If someone wants to try and hurt me, I’m going to put up one hell of a fight. The majority of

his fans are harmless, although I’m sure I’ll have to deal with a lot more of them hating me over the next forty

years. Oh well, whatever.”

Kyle became awfully quiet.

“Hey, I remember what I wanted to ask you!” I blurted out. “Where is that corner deli where you got that

chicken soup?”

“Did you like it?” Kyle asked, grinning at me.

“Oh yeah! It was delicious! You’ll have to give me directions to that place.”

He started to tell me what roads to take but after the fifth turn I lost him. I was quite buzzed after that last

shot.

“Can’t you write it down for me? I’ll never remember,” I whined.

“You have a pen?” he asked.

I returned with paper and a pen and two more bottles of beer. Kyle started writing directions.

“You’re a lefty, huh?” I teased, noticing he wrote with his left hand.

Kyle smiled at the paper.

“Did you know that I can write with my left hand?” I taunted. I pulled on the edge of the paper to mess with

him while he was writing. “Yep, I’m ambidextrous. What do you think about that?” I tugged on the paper

again.

He was grinning as he kept on writing. “I think we have yet another thing in common.”

“No way! You are not!” I took a sip of my beer, waiting for him to confirm. He annoyingly kept silent.

As soon as Kyle finished writing, I slipped the paper out from under his hand. He tried to stop me from

taking it but he wasn’t quick enough.

In an instant his whole demeanor changed. We were just having a fun time teasing each other, but now he

seemed agitated.

Kyle looked at his watch and quickly downed the last of his beer. “I’ve got to go,” he muttered and slid out

of the booth.

I was completely confused by his abrupt departure.

“Well, thanks for the stuff.” I patted the paper bag.

He was obviously distracted by other thoughts as he put his leather jacket on.

“I’ll see you later. Get some rest,” he ordered.

I watched as Kyle ran his hand through his hair on the way out the door. Marie and Tammy were staring at

me, giving me the disapproving look that I spent too much time with Kyle.

Feeling guilty, I immediately went back upstairs and called Ryan.

“I still think you could make it,” Ryan whined in my ear. “I’m sure there’s an open seat on a flight.”

I looked at the yellowish-brown marks that still covered my cheek through my slightly drunken eyes,

thinking that no amount of makeup would ever conceal them. I was glad that we had finally moved on from

the umpteenth Kyle argument.

“Ryan, I asked my doctor. He doesn’t want me to fly for another two weeks. Besides, my face is still black

and blue or more like yellow and brown now. You can’t be photographed with me looking like this.”

“I don’t care about that,” he breathed. “But if the doctor is the one saying no, then I understand why you

can’t.”

“Honey, I want to be there too, but a trip to L.A. isn’t possible right now. I still have some pain in my ribs.

I’m planning on watching the Oscars on television. I wouldn’t miss your presentation for anything.”

“I fly tomorrow and then I have a rehearsal so I don’t mess up my lines. I’m really nervous,” he admitted.

“You’ll do just fine. You’re a pro at this!” I tried to encourage him.

“This schedule is crazy. I leave out of LAX at nine the next morning. And then I’m scheduled to do some

scenes later that night back in Miami,” he groaned.

“No rest for the weary,” I stated.

“Tar, would you try to come down here in two weeks? Please? Since I can’t see you this weekend at least

come down to Miami. I have something very special in mind for your birthday.”

“Don’t go overboard. It’s just another day,” I groaned. “Seeing you will be more than enough.”

“Nevermind what I plan,” he whispered. “I’ll get arrangements made for you to fly down here and I’m going

to make sure you make it safely to the airport this time, so don’t give me any shit about a bodyguard, okay?”

“All I need is for you to hold me,” I said.

“Yeah, me too,” Ryan whispered.

“Why are you talking so quietly? Is someone there with you?” I asked.

“No. Hang on,” he said. “Hey, I’m gonna get going. I um, ordered room service and they’re here.”

I thought I heard a woman’s voice speaking in the background and what sounded like Ryan shushing her.

“Okay, well I guess I’ll talk to you later then,” I muttered. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” he whispered quickly. The phone clicked abruptly. Ryan didn’t even say goodbye.

The phone call I had with Ryan was still playing over and over again in my mind the next day. I knew he was

flying to L.A. and he had a lot of things to do, but it still surprised me that he didn’t try calling me. It was out of

character for him.

I called him the following day, bothered that I didn’t hear from him. I tried to keep my annoyance out of my

tone and kept my voice light and happy. Ryan was moody. He said it was because he was being rushed from

place to place. He was also getting dressed for the Oscars.

Later that evening I perched myself in front of the television to watch the Academy Awards. Ryan looked so

handsome on the red carpet as he gave his interview. Of course, he was asked if he was there with anyone

and his reply was, “No, I don’t have a date!”

Date? How about your “one and only” girlfriend is still recuperating from her near-death experience? I

grunted in anger. There was no private gesture to acknowledge he was thinking of me. I was still a secret he

would never admit to out loud.

Several days later, we had another argument.

“Honey, why are there pictures of you hugging and holding Lauren’s hand on the Internet?” I asked

gently.

Ryan huffed in my ear.

“Taryn, you fucking promised me,” he growled angrily.

“It’s a simple question, Ryan. I don’t hold Pete’s hand or Gary’s hand – ever. I just want to know why you

felt the need to tow her along through some Oscar after party.”

“She was drunk. I didn’t want her to make an ass out of herself while she was out in public,” Ryan

defensively answered.

Flashbacks of me asking Thomas similar questions coated my thoughts. Thomas always had a valid

excuse too:

“Her car broke down and I couldn’t just leave her stranded so I gave her a ride home and then we just got

to talking...”

“She was a girl I knew from school. She is going through some rough times right now.”

“I had to do an estimate at someone’s house. So what that I’m a couple hours late. Do I have to check in

with you every ten minutes?”

I sighed loudly. “I thought Lauren has a boyfriend? Why wasn’t he tending to her?” I asked.

“Because he’s on location in New Zealand, Taryn,” Ryan returned sharply. “Her boyfriend, Lucas Banks,

is also filming.” His tone made me feel like an idiot, like I should’ve known that.

“I’m sorry,” I apologized instinctively. My old habits of being insecure kept resurfacing. Thomas always

had a knack of turning each argument around, blaming my lack of trust and neurosis for being the cause of

our fights.

“I just wanted to know what the circumstances were, that’s all,” I conceded.

“You have no reason to be suspicious, Honey. It’s just like the pictures of you holding onto Cory out on

the icy sidewalk. I recall seeing your hand in his in those pictures. Just remember how quickly an innocent

gesture gets taken out of context.”

“You’re right, but…” I whispered. “I just don’t want you to give Lauren the wrong impression either, Ryan.”

“Are you going to be like this forever, Tar? Accusing me whenever I touch another human being?” Ryan

snarled.

“No. But I will be like this when you’re holding hands with someone you’ve already had sex with!”

I tried to maintain my temper, and although I was unsure if he had sex with Lauren or not when they

supposedly dated, the fact that he didn’t try to deny it was confirmation enough.

“And I know you well enough to know that if you saw pictures of me holding hands with some exboyfriend

that I…” I took a breath, pausing to check the direction of my accusations. “With someone you

didn’t know or trust, smiling and canoodling around some over the top party with him, you’d flip out on me,” I

groaned.

“Yeah, you’re right. I would,” Ryan willingly admitted.

“And why would you have that reaction, Ryan? Would it be because you don’t trust me or because you

don’t want the entire world to have that impression of our relationship?”

“I trust you,” he whispered.

“It’s embarrassing and disheartening, seeing your boyfriend being affectionate with his ex-girlfriend off

set,” I said softly. “When you’re filming, it’s another thing…”

“If you would have just come out to L.A. like I asked you to we wouldn’t be having this conversation. I was

afraid of this… afraid of what the distance would truly do to us,” Ryan uttered into the phone.

“Ryan, it’s not the distance! I know you and Lauren hooked up last year and you dated her. She’s familiar

territory. I’m like this because I’m in love with you and I don’t want to lose you to someone else.” The thought

of him slipping out of my hands and into Lauren’s stabbed me in the heart.

“I figured you knew. No wonder…” he sighed. “I guess I messed up again. I should have told you.”

“Well, put it this way, you just confirmed what I thought I knew,” I whispered. “I wish you would’ve just

been honest about what happened between you two. I’m just left here to speculate.”

“What do you want to know?” he scoffed. “I’m sorry. We should’ve talked about this, but I didn’t think it

was a big deal, so either you trust me or you don’t.”

“Ryan, I trust you!” I said, hoping he’d believe me. “But how could you think it wasn’t a big deal for me

when you know you’re working on a romantic movie with some actress you screwed before? You never even

told me about her,” I reminded him.

He tried to interrupt but I spoke over him. I needed to get this all off my chest.

“You have to realize, all of these little, undisclosed secrets are what tears trust apart! Give me reasons to

trust you, not reasons to distrust you, Ryan.”

“Taryn, I said I’m sorry. I should’ve been honest about it, but I was afraid you would be angry and I didn’t

want to fight about it, so I didn’t say anything. Now I’ve just made it worse.”

I didn’t want to push the issue any further. I hoped he got my point about honesty.

“Do you love me?” I asked.

Ryan sighed. “With all my heart.”

“Then I trust you,” I vowed.

“Do you really?” he questioned harshly. “Then can you explain to me why Kyle is in Miami?”

I was momentarily stunned from hearing Kyle’s name come out of his mouth again.

“What do you mean Kyle is in Miami?” I retorted. “When did you see him?”

“He was on location with us this morning, Tar,” Ryan growled. “Why is he here?”

“I have no idea why he’s there,” I defended, trying to decipher Ryan’s line of questioning.

“You better not be lying to me, Taryn!” he stated forcefully.

“Ryan, I swear – I’m not lying! I have no idea why he’s there.”

“When was the last time you saw him?” he asked.

I thought about it for a moment. “When he came to give me that mace and stuff a week ago, and I told you

about that. I’ve told you every time he’s ever come around here. I’m not the one keeping secrets.”

“Swear to me that you didn’t know about him coming down here,” Ryan breathed desperately.

“Ryan, I swear on my life that I have no idea why he is there.”

“He irks the shit out of me. I don’t know why he’s here, but I’m going to find out,” he said authoritatively.

There was a long pause until Ryan broke the silence.

“Taryn, I don’t want to fight with you. I am just frustrated about…” It was silent again and I didn’t know if I

should say anything or let him talk.

A million thoughts rushed through my mind. He is frustrated with me and my insecurities. He is frustrated

that I didn’t come to the Oscars. He is frustrated that I lost his unborn baby.

I mindlessly let the next thought slip out of my mouth to kill the silence.

“You’re frustrated with me,” I stated it, not questioned.

“I’m frustrated with everything, Taryn.”

One single tear dripped down my cheek.

Chapter 33 – Crushed

The next week seemed to move along quicker. I was starting to feel better physically and spending more time downstairs in the pub was better

for me mentally. I didn’t realize just how much interacting with people was good for my spirit.

My regular customers were glad to see me again and although many were concerned, some couldn’t help but make a few jokes about the

accident. I still wore my obnoxious blue cast as a constant reminder.

“Taryn! What are you doing?” Marie yelled at me.

“Just filling the coolers,” I muttered.

“You’re not supposed to be lifting and bending like that! Get away from there!” Marie tugged on my arm. “Go, sit. Take it easy. I don’t want you

getting hurt before your trip.”

There was no arguing with Marie about the amount of physical labor that I tried to exert, but what she didn’t realize was how good it felt for me to

move and stretch again.

“Is it okay if I tap a beer?” I kidded with her.

“Fine, but no lifting heavy beer cases.” She shook her finger at me.

I was feeling very apprehensive about my upcoming trip to Florida. Ryan was acting… weird, skittish. Since he was always working, our phone

conversations had to be coordinated, but lately Ryan was over-the-top with arranging times when it was safe to talk.

Safe… he uttered that word during one of our conversations. Why all of a sudden is he worried about being safe when he talks to me? Was it

because Lauren was constantly around him, even when he had spare moments of downtime when he wasn’t filming?

Ryan informed me of Kyle’s annoying presence, almost accusing me of being responsible for Kyle being there on occasion. Kyle had managed

to spend a few days making his presence known on some of the filming locations… that was until Ryan put an end to it.

Ryan told me that he spoke to the head of Kyle’s company directly and informed him that he wanted Kyle removed from the set immediately.

Ryan wouldn’t tell me what happened, but something definitely went down between the two of them because Ryan was furious.

Kyle was to be informed immediately to refrain from contacting me or attempting to see me in any way, shape, or form… permanently. I was

sure that Ryan used his “no bullshit” tone with Kyle’s boss.

I wished there was someone I could call to keep Lauren’s lips off of Ryan; someone to order her to stay away from him. I would have loved to

use my authority to issue a “cease and desist” order on her.

I tried to constantly remind myself that Ryan was making a movie, that his kissing Lauren was no different from him kissing Suzanne.

Sometimes I tried to swap out Lauren’s head with Suzanne’s just to keep my jealousy at bay, but since I had never met Lauren, it was difficult. I

didn’t know her and therefore I didn’t trust her.

Ryan constantly assured me that he loved me, but I couldn’t help to think of my failed engagement and all the times Thomas “assured” me when

he covered his infidelities. Some experiences were difficult to shake.

It didn’t help that Ryan’s demeanor towards me had been different these last few days. He was nervous and weirdly excited that I was coming to

Miami. Flight times, arrival times, departure times, all carefully orchestrated.

My friends were behaving differently as well… smiling at me awkwardly all the time, like they knew something I didn’t. It sort of reminded me of

the ambiguous looks they used to give me when they thought I was too stupid to realize Thomas was cheating on me.

The day finally arrived that I departed for Florida. This time I was going to make it there safely; Ryan was making sure of that. He hired a driver

to get me to the airport and Jamaal, my new bodyguard – who was the size of an NFL linebacker – accompanied me the entire way. I felt better

knowing that Ryan wanted me to arrive unscathed, especially since Angelica was still on the loose.

“I thought Florida is supposed to be sunny and warm?” I said to my driver, trying to break the silence. I glowered at the dismal gray skies that

darkened the afternoon. The heavy rain was making trails down my window, obscuring my view of the landscape.

“It is, madam,” my driver stated with a thick Jamaican accent. “But not today!” He laughed.

“I feel like I should ask for a refund! All this false advertising!” I laughed at my own joke, sensing that he either didn’t hear me or he didn’t

understand.

Downtown Miami was still teeming with life despite the dubious weather. I tried to pay attention to where we were driving while my fingers

tapped along with the rhythmic sound of the windshield wipers.

I noticed the marquee on the Regency Hotel as we slowed. It was a relief to know that I finally made it and only a few more minutes separated

me from being reunited with my love.

I couldn’t wait to wrap my arms around him and put an end to all my worries.

The steel garage door sealed tightly behind my car, shutting out the prying eyes and photographers that surrounded the hotel.

It was difficult not to feel like royalty when I had a hulking bodyguard holding out his hand for me to exit the limousine, my driver was handling my

luggage, and hotel security was waiting for my arrival at the private entrance.

Butterflies coated my stomach while I slid the keycard into the lock of Ryan’s private suite.

“You can just leave my bags here,” I pointed to the floor in the entryway.

“That’s okay ma’am, I’ll take them to the bedroom for you,” the bellboy nervously insisted.

“I can get them,” I said. I wanted the bellboy out as soon as possible so that the second I saw Ryan it would be a private, intimate moment. I had

been thinking about this reunion for days. I even strategically picked out my outfit – a simple cotton top and his favorite jeans. I was not about to

waste a second of our time messing with layers of clothes as we got re-acclimated. Besides, I didn’t know if Ryan was lying and waiting naked in

the bedroom. At least I hoped he was.

“No! Um, I have to take them!” The young man was adamant, almost shouting out at me. Before I had a chance to say no again, he quickly

carried my bags off to the bedroom.

“Here you go,” I said with a smile, tipping the bellboy ten dollars. He quickly snatched the money from my fingers and sprang for the door, not

even making eye contact. I thought it was rude that he didn’t even say ‘Thank You.’

Ryan’s suite was magnificent, of course! Private bedroom, enormous living room, and a large dining table with a lush fresh flower centerpiece

made the room feel like an apartment.

“Ryan?” I called out, wondering why he didn’t meet me at the door. I hurried to the master bedroom and opened the double doors. “Are you

here?” I wandered around all the rooms but he wasn’t in the suite.

Where is he? We had agreed to meet here. I looked at my watch. I had expected him to be waiting for me, figuring he’d scoop me up in his

arms and carry me off to the bedroom the moment we saw each other.

I tried his cell number, anxious to let him know I had arrived. My smile turned to a frown when his voicemail answered instead.

I took my thin jacket off, struggling a bit to get the cuff over my cast, and laid it over the back of the silk-clad chair.

Shimmery hues of black, blue, and cream-colored fabric caught my attention. Next to the polished mahogany dining table stood a long metal

clothing rack on wheels.

I hesitantly approached, admiring the exquisite evening gowns that hung on padded hangers. I let my fingers feel the silkiness of the different

fabrics. One striking dress stood out over the rest – the bustier top was made of buttery soft ivory leather, crisscrossing at the waist. Curiosity made

me look. Atelier Versace, I read the garment tag. I felt like I was committing a crime just by touching the dresses.

Stacked up on the floor were dozens of shoeboxes – Jimmy Choo, Christian Louboutin, you name it. Every high-end shoe designer was

represented.

Why does Ryan have women’s clothing on display? Must be nice to be an actress – look at all the perks that come along with it. Wait, am I in

Ryan’s room or Lauren’s room?

I turned around in confusion then hurried off to the bedroom again, noticing Ryan’s suitcases and his Gibson guitar. I double-checked the

luggage tags and sighed with relief after reading “Shell-B Enterprises.” Okay, I’m in the right room.

I reached for my suitcase and noticed there was an envelope lying next to it on the bed. Hmm, that’s weird. Did the bellboy leave a bill for

something? I opened the envelope and removed the folded paper. Ah! Ryan did leave a note! My eyes focused on the handwriting... but it wasn’t

Ryan’s.

Are you serious? No, this can’t be happening! My brain tried to rationalize what I just read. No, he wouldn’t do this to me. Not today. Not on my

birthday.

I looked at the note again, trying to read it as it shook in my hand.

There was my name…

I felt the weight of the entire world as it collapsed in on me, shattering every bone in my body. My heart was instantly torn to shreds and smashed

into dust.

… There was her signature, clearly encouraging my boyfriend to leave me. The rumors, the lies, the photographs – could they all be true?

… The words jumped off the page like a sharp dagger into my heart.

“No. Damn It! NO!” I cried out. “No! He loves me! Me, not her!”

Did he really fly me down here to break up with me or wasn’t I supposed to see this little remnant of his infidelity?

How could he do this to me? Would he really be that coldhearted, leaving this behind for me to read?

Why not? After all, Thomas did it to me.

No, Ryan is not like that. He is a good person… who is cheating on me.

I started to hyperventilate. A million pictures flashed through my mind... Ryan kissing my hand, his smile that made my heart flutter, hearing his

voice say he loves me a thousand times.

No, there has to be a rational explanation for this! There has to be! I staggered slightly, feeling dizzy all of a sudden.

My foot stepped onto something on the floor, right next to where my suitcase was placed. I bent to pick up the shimmery fabric. As I unraveled it,

I discovered that in my hands was a pair of black silk women’s panties. Like creeping death, more evidence of his infidelity unfolded to me. Visions

of him with Lauren, making love to her in this bed right in front of me, snuffed out every one of my joyous memories.

My cell phone shrilled in my pocket, startling me. My pulse quickened and I recoiled back, almost falling over my own feet.

“Hello?” I answered in between sobs.

“Is this Taryn Mitchell?” the male voice inquired abruptly.

“Yes. Who is this?” I muttered, wiping my cheek on my sleeve.

“It’s not important. Write down this address,” he ordered. His voice was gruff, muffled.

“What?” I asked, completely confused.

“He is with her right now,” the stranger informed. “We’re taking pictures of them together. Get a pen.”

While I listened to the clicking sounds of a camera, I scrambled to the desk and found a hotel tablet – the same stationary that Lauren used.

“Do you have a pen?” the man yelled.

“Yes, but I don’t understand.”

“You need to see the truth. Hurry. The hotel will get a taxi for you. Come to 2950 West Palermo Avenue – the restaurant on the corner. Shoot

that… he’s kissing her again! Ah! He is so busted! 2950 West Palermo.”

“Who is this?” I asked. “Hello?”

I tore the paper off the pad and grabbed my purse.

“2950 West Palermo,” I read the address to the taxi driver and then shoved the paper back in my pocket. The rain came down in buckets,

causing the car headlights to glare off the windshield. The skies were pitch black from the storm blasting Miami. The dark and ominous clouds

brought the wind, which caused the rain to blow sideways. Loud thunder started to rumble between the lightning flashes.

I sat on the edge of the back seat, staring wildly out the front window of the taxi. I saw the road sign indicating Palermo Ave. My throat became

tight with anticipation.

The taxi driver pulled over to the curb.

“2950 Palermo.” The driver pointed at the tall office building. “That’ll be fourteen-fifty.”

I grabbed a twenty out of my wallet; my hand shook as I handed it to him.

“Do you want a receipt?” he asked in a rough voice.

“No,” I said quickly, my hand was already pulling the lever on the door.

I gave the cab door a shove and hurried through the rain towards the shelter of the entrance. Frightening thunder rumbled through the sky; the

earsplitting crack made me instinctively duck while it echoed loudly off of the tall buildings. I flinched from the sound; knowing my luck I’d probably

get struck by lightning today too.

I looked at the big numbers on the gray stone building… 2950. It was a bank with several floors of offices above it.

I was utterly confused. What the? Was someone playing a cruel joke on me – sending me on some wild goose chase? I pulled the paper back

out of my pocket to double check the address, but instead of the address, I was looking at Lauren’s note again. The note I held in my hand was

definitely not a joke.

Restaurant on corner, my memory informed quickly. I looked up and down the street, unsure of which way to go. I was in the center of the block.

Fueled by the evidence clutched in my hand, I started walking fast down the sidewalk. The rain soaked through my clothes; my wet feet slipped

uncomfortably inside my leather boots. My hair that was once nicely done was completely drenched. I shivered from the wind and pulled my purse